


Join My Band

by lady_icarus



Series: Days That Bind Us [1]
Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: First Meetings, M/M, Pre-Band
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 12:36:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10899483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_icarus/pseuds/lady_icarus
Summary: When Kyle meets Dan at a party, he's not sure what he's expecting to come of utilizing the messy number scrawled on his arm. Near-daily texts of "join my band" wasn't even in his top five expectations. And yet getting pulled in by dazzling eyes and a mesmerizing smile wasn't as much of a surprise as it should have been.





	Join My Band

**Author's Note:**

> So the story goes that Dan and Kyle met at a party, and Dan pestered Kyle "multiple times" before Kyle finally gave in and joined the band. This was my take on those 'multiple times' with some shippy goodness thrown in. Featuring multiple Bastille song references, both outright and over the course of the narrative.

“You should join my band.”

Those were definitely not the words he’d been expecting out of the other’s mouth, blue-green eyes sparkling under the messiest hair he’d ever seen. They were sitting together on an old beat-up couch, somehow oblivious to the party raging on around them.

“Why? You don’t even know me. You don’t know if I play any instruments or not.” Kyle pointed out, taking a long sip of his beer.

The other guy grinned, a surprisingly earnest smile despite the fact that he was likely even more drunk than Kyle was. When Kyle raised an eyebrow in a silent challenge, the guy nodded towards his hand, the one not holding a beer.

“You’re playing the counter-melody to the… to the song. The one that’s playing.” He explained, moving his own fingers in the air in front of him, perfectly in sync with the movement of Kyle’s hand. He had to blink in surprise, unaware that he’d been doing that in the first place.

“Piano, right?” The guy pressed, moving a little closer on the couch even though they were already sitting fairly close together.

“Yeah.” Kyle reluctantly confirmed, wishing he could look away from the eager gaze of the stranger on the couch. “You don’t know me.” He repeated. “I could be a serial killer.”

“Even better. I could use the inspiration.” Somehow his smile had gotten even brighter, and Kyle found his resolve weakening under the intensity of that expression.

“What kind of shitty band sings songs about serial killers or getting murdered at a party?”

“Macabre. The Killers. Lana Del Rey.” He started listing, balancing his cup between his knees so he could use both hands for the action.

“If that’s who you’re listing for your sound inspiration, I’m definitely not interested.” Kyle interrupted, ignoring the way the other guy laughed in response.

“Definitely not. Just saying. It’s not so weird to draw inspiration from tragedies.”

“I’m going to have to take your word on that one.” Kyle shook his head, drinking from his nearly empty cup.

“You don’t have to. Take my word for it, I mean. You could come check it out. Play with us some. Figure out how you could fit into the whole thing.”

“I’m not joining your weird serial killer band.”

“Not all of our songs are about serial killers. Or any, actually. Yet.” He amended, seeming to stumble over the words he was attempting to say. He let out a huff of frustration, then fixed Kyle with that same dopey smile. “Just think about it, yeah? Here…” He said, reaching out and taking Kyle’s arm, producing a sharpie from seemingly nowhere and scribbling a few numbers on it. “Think about it. Call me up sometime.”

“For a good time call?” Kyle retorted, looking away from the numbers now occupying his entire forearm to the guy next to him. He didn’t miss the way the guy’s eyes widened slightly, or the seemingly subconscious way he licked his lips, and Kyle couldn’t help but think that there were so many different ways this conversation could have gone.

“Something like that.” The guy finally murmured, pulling away and moving to get up. Kyle almost let him walk away before calling out. The guy stopped in his tracks, turning to give Kyle a somewhat hopeful look.

“You just. Never told me your name.”

“Oh.” A flash of disappointment, quickly covered up with a sweet smile. “It’s Dan.”

* * *

Against his better judgment, Kyle ended up plugging Dan’s number into his phone that very night, even if he wasn’t entirely sure he was going to use it. He toyed with the idea of just sending him a text, wanting to see if that chemistry would still be there even without alcohol or the dude drunkenly attempting to make him join a band that may or may not even exist, but the thought escaped him as alcohol and exhaustion lulled him into sleep.

The next morning found him with a surprisingly tame hangover and an insistent need to play the piano. He dragged himself out of bed and over to where his keyboard was lying on the floor, propping it up in his lap so he could move his fingers over the keys. It started off simple, just toying with chord progressions and fingering, but he surprised himself when his fingers started playing the song from the night before, left hand taking the base chords while the right worked out that counter-melody that Dan had pointed out. It was a simple enough song, the counter-melody almost painfully easy to work out, and he found himself wishing for something better to listen to, to play. Something… more.

Which his how he found himself texting the Dan guy with the weird hair at a quarter past noon.

_/How badly does your band suck?/_

He didn’t have to wait long for a response.

_/We don’t suck. But even if we did, we’d suck a lot less with you./_

_/I’m not joining your band./_

_/You haven’t even heard our stuff yet./_

_/I’m not exactly ‘bandmate’ material./_

_/Which means you’ll fit in beautifully with the rest of us./_

He stared down at his phone for a solid minute before tossing it onto his bed, realizing as he watched it arc through the air that he’d forgotten to get the band name from Dan. Or anything else about the guy. He couldn’t just plug ‘dan band serial killer’ into the youtube search bar, and it’s not like he had much else to go off of. Not that he was thinking about joining the band. He was just curious as to what sort of style the guy was into. He had a weird sort of confidence about him, even despite his obviously shy nature. He could remember when the guy had first collapsed onto the couch Kyle had claimed as his own, head bobbing with the music and eyes seeming to follow everyone in the room before finally landing on Kyle himself. There was an intensity in that gaze, a look that seemed to say “I know everything about you” while also saying “I want to know you”. Although, he wasn’t sure how much of his assessment was genuine and how much was fueled by the alcohol haze he’d been in.

As it was, that smile haunted him for almost a week before Dan texted him again.

_/You ever watch Twin Peaks?/_

_/You know that show is like twenty years old, right?/_

_/Doesn’t matter, it’s great. You seen it?/_

_/Once, a long time ago. Think I might’ve been high through it, though./_

_/No it’s just weird. Here./_

Attached was an audio clip, which Kyle didn’t hesitate to push play on. There wasn’t much to the clip, just a few basic piano chords. But then a voice started singing, and Kyle could only barely recognize as belonging to Dan. The clip wasn’t long, only about thirty seconds or so, but Kyle sat there on the ground, staring at his phone in disbelief for a solid minute before it chimed again.

_/So?/_

He rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head before typing out a quick reply. _/Would sound better with rolled chords./_

This time, he wasn’t surprised to see the answering text on his screen.

_/Join my band./_

Kyle just laughed and shook his head before sending off a reply.

_/You’re gonna have to pull me in with something a little more than nerd music./_

_/Challenge accepted./_

* * *

Kyle did end up going to one of Dan’s practice sessions, where he met Chris “Call him Woody, everyone does” Wood and Will “I don’t actually know how to sing, I’m just lucky to be here” Farquarson. Dan’s entire face had lit up when he showed up on the doorstep and he quickly ushered him into the flat. Once inside, Woody had just squinted at him and barely said a word while Will had an expression of pure relief.

“You’re joining the band, right?” Will asked, looking up from where he’d been tuning his bass.

“Yeah. Piano guy. Party guy.” Woody nodded, twirling a drumstick between his fingers only to drop it on the ground. He let out a curse as he bent to retrieve it and Kyle snorted in response to his antics.

“I’m not joining your band. Just thought it might be cool to hear you guys play. That’s all. You going to play that Twin Peaks song?” This, he addressed to Dan, who turned an almost adorable shade of red in response.

“Dude, you finished Palmer? You haven’t even let us hear it yet and we’re actually in the band.” Will exclaimed.

“It’s not done yet. I’m still working it out. Need to play with the synth, see if I like it better than straight piano.” He mumbled, moving to sit at the piano and avoiding meeting anyone’s gaze. He did look up at Kyle for a moment though, flashing a shy, hesitant smile before his fingers began moving over the keys. Kyle was mesmerized for a solid minute before the trance was broken with the sound of Woody jumping in on drums, only to be joined by Will seconds later. They had a good chemistry, the three of them, but he couldn’t deny the feeling that something was missing. Even when Dan started to sing, there was still something absent, leaving the song sounding incomplete. As though reading his thoughts, Dan looked up from the keyboard and shrugged, fingers never faltering even as he stopped singing to speak.

“This is where I’d like to have another pianist. Someone to jump in, do the counter-melody or harmonies. Woody’s not too bad with them, but expecting him to sing and drum is a little mean.”

In an obvious show of protest, Woody sang out a loud, passionate “fuck you!” that still somehow fit perfectly within the song’s melody.

The melody turned back to what he assumed was the chorus, and Kyle found himself drumming his fingers against his thigh, brain already working out the steps of the counter melody while he hummed along. Dan looked delighted as he started singing again, fingers still flying over the keys as his mouth formed words about flames and loves lost. Once the song was over, Kyle didn’t even have time to raise a hand to protest before Dan was speaking.

“Join my band.”

“Our band.” Woody corrected, adjusting the cymbal to his left and hitting it a few times for good measure. He flipped his hair away from his face, fixing Kyle with a look that was somewhere between assessing and threatening.

“C’mon. Here.” Dan said, shifting on the bench so there was space. Kyle surprised himself by moving, taking up the empty space next to Dan and glaring at the keyboard as if it had personally betrayed him by existing. “Just… jump in wherever, yeah?”

“Still not joining your band.” Kyle muttered, watching as Dan placed his fingers on the keys and started moving. Simple chords, different from the song they’d been playing before. He followed the sound movement for a while, hands still resting on his lap before one came up and hesitantly played a chord just as Dan’s fingers played one a few octaves up. He played a few more notes, building up to the chord he knew Dan would play next, and the other pianist looked over at him and smiled shyly as they continued playing.

“Are you going to age with grace? Are you going to age without mistakes?” Dan sang quietly, voice slowly getting louder just before Woody and Will jumped in with their own instruments. Kyle’s fingers faltered for a moment before he was jumping in again, both hands on the keyboard this time as they played through the chorus. His hand crossed over Dan’s, hitting a chord that made the vocalist grin with approval before returning to his end of the keyboard, keeping the bass notes solid as Dan played some sort of a melody up at the top.

It was… good. Really good, he decided, blinking in surprise as he continued playing. He’d never heard these songs before and yet here he was, playing them as though he’d known them his entire life. He found himself humming along, low harmonies that actually melded really well with Dan’s voice, and by the time the song was over, he'd found himself singing along, lips forming words he only barely knew.

“You always take it further… than I ever can.” He finished, noting the goosebumps on his arm as Dan hit the final trill of notes.

Woody and Will were exchanging glances behind them, but all Kyle could see in that moment was Dan’s smile, a beaming thing that could light up a whole room while still also breaking your heart. He cleared his throat and looked away, suddenly uncomfortable with the intensity Dan seemed to always have.

“Still not joining your band.” He muttered, reaching out to the music on the stand in front of them. “What's this one?”

“It's a work in progress. We can play it if you want, but it's not quite there yet.” Dan explained, glancing back at Woody. The drummer just shrugged, thumping out a beat on the kick that somehow seemed to be a message to the vocalist, since he grinned in response.

“Not really hard on my end. We can play it.” Will spoke up, picking a few chords on his bass.

“Jump in if you want. I don't play much on this one.” Dan said, looking back at Kyle with a nod before putting his fingers to the keys. Once again, a few chords played, and Dan waited for Kyle to reluctantly put his own hands on the keyboard before he started to sing. Easy enough chord progression, even if he did get almost bored with it as Dan moved through what he was assuming to be the first verse.

“Great clouds roll over the hills bringing darkness from above…” Dan sang, beating a rhythm onto his thighs and reaching over to hit a few beats on Kyle’s leg.

Kyle laughed, shifting the tempo of the keys to match what they were playing.

“But if you close your eyes--”

“Eh oh, eh oh.” Kyle threw in, trying to match Dan’s singing as well as he could. Will and Woody joined in, the latter with more of a shout until they were almost overpowering Dan’s voice.

“How am I gonna be an optimist about this? How am I gonna be an optimist about this?” Dan continued, the glee evident in his voice.

The second verse cut in, and Kyle found himself nodding along to the beat, not even surprised when Dan ended up slapping the rhythm on his leg. This time, when the chorus cut in, Kyle was immediately joined by Will and Woody in the “eh oh” part while Dan increased his volume to compensate. They finished out the “eh oh” counter-chorus as the song ended, and Dan was grinning excitedly.

“See, its good. It works.” His hand was still resting on Kyle’s thigh where he'd stopped tapping out the beat, and the expression he wore was so good, so earnest, it took everything Kyle had to pull away and rise to his feet.

“Right. It’ll be good once you get your fourth guy in. Round out the sound and all.” He cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Um, I’d better go. But this was good, fun. You guys will be really good one day.”

He turned just as Woody threw his hands up in something akin to exasperation, mostly trying to avoid the kicked-puppy look he knew Dan was wearing. Bands weren't his thing, he reminded himself as he left the flat. It wouldn't be a good fit.

But still the feelings of Dan’s thigh pressed against his own, the excited beat of his hands against the denim, the dazzling smile all haunted him with every step.

* * *  
  
_/You have a really nice mustache. It would make the band look that much cooler./_

Kyle rolled his eyes as he looked at the text, smiling fondly despite himself. A few days had passed since their impromptu jam session, but the songs had stayed with him no matter how hard he tried to drown them out.

_/You have weird hair, just adding my mustache to the equation would be too much./_

_/That thing you did with Pompeii was really good./_

_/Was that the ‘close your eyes’ one?/_

_/Yeah. I liked it. And eheu is a Latin phrase, you know. Means ‘oh no’./_

_/Pretty fitting for a song about a city of dead people. Pompeii fits. It's good./_

_/You fit, too. Join my band./_

_/Still no./_

_/What are you so afraid of?/_

_/Why aren't you afraid?/_

This time, it took a few minutes for his phone to light up again.

_/If you let fear stop you from living, you'll miss out on life's best moments./_

_/Like weird guys at parties pestering you into joining their band?/_

_/Like being in your mate’s living room and making magic./_

* * *

_/If I buy you a pizza will you join my band?/_

_/No but I'll still take you up on the pizza./_

Which is how Kyle found himself at Woody’s flat again, curled up next to Dan on the couch with Will propped up on the floor in front of them.

“So where are you wanting to go with all this? You just want to make music, tour, get a record deal? What's the endgame?”

“Does it matter?” Woody asked, lifting another slice of pizza from the box. “We’re having fun. We sound fuckin awesome. Doesn't matter if we never make it big. Might be better if we don't.” He gave Dan a pointed look. Kyle turned to the other, confusion on his features, but Dan just waved him off.

“I want to make it big. I'd love for the world to hear our music, to have people being touched by words that I've written. It would help. Knowing that words that helped me are helping others… it would be good.”

“Plus touring would be fun as shit.” Will piped up around a mouthful of cheese.

“Yeah. Don't you want to see the world?” Dan asked, nudging Kyle gently.

“From the other side of things. I don't want to be on the stage, I want to be in front of it. Seeing the greats play. I'm not… I'm not one of them.”

“None of us are.” Will frowned.

“But we could be. Together.” Dan grinned, reaching over to squeeze Kyle’s thigh. “Wouldn't be so bad, would it? Standing up on that stage, knowing you're surrounded by people that care about you and have your back?”

“Might not suck. Still not joining your band. I'll see you, though. Wouldn't miss your first show for the world.” Kyle said, patting Dan’s hand where it rested on his leg. Dan looked disappointed, but Kyle noted that his hand didn't move even as the conversation shifted to other things.

* * *

“You should join my baaand.” Dan sang, slinging an arm over Kyle’s shoulder.

“You should drink less beer.” Kyle retorted, taking a drink from his own cup. Dan’s was hanging loosely from the hand resting across Kyle’s chest, and a quick sniff told him that Dan wasn't drinking beer at all, but had opted for the fruity death concoction their hosts were calling punch. “This stuff is going to kill you.” He said, carefully maneuvering the cup out of Dan’s hand and replacing it with his own beer.

“No, you’re going to kill me. It’s a good band, you said it yourself, and you just… you fit. Like one of those… things.” He waved his hand as though that was an adequate substitution for using a noun.

“...jigsaw puzzle?” Kyle suggested, wincing when he took a drink from what had previously been Dan’s cup. The stuff tasted like the unholy offspring of a jolly rancher, cough syrup, and unadulterated agony mixed into a drink. It burned like hell going down, but he had to admit the aftertaste was strangely pleasant.

“Bingo! That. The puzzle. That’s you. And me. And the band.” Dan frowned, then brightened suddenly. “You should join my band!”

“You said that already. C’mon, time to sit.” Kyle sighed, taking another drink from the cup. His head was already starting to spin, and he’d only had a couple of beers prior, so he assumed that whatever he was currently drinking was somehow well over 100 proof. He managed to find an unoccupied couch, and when he moved to sit on it, Dan ended up sprawled half across him, still draped over his shoulder.

“It works, though. We sound really good together. And I know you felt it, how perfect and in sync we were. All of us were.” Dan straightened suddenly, his free hand moving to Kyle’s face and pulling it so they were facing each other. Kyle blinked at the closeness, noting the way his nose brushed against Dan’s anytime he so much as breathed. So instead he stayed still, watching Dan’s eyes move over his face in a searching gaze. “We need you. It’s good, yeah? Me and Woody and Will. It’s good. But you fit so perfectly with us. We need you.” He repeated.

“What if I fuck up? What if we’re trying to record something and my fingers mess up a chord, or we’re performing live and I completely forget what chords I’m supposed to be playing?’ Kyle asked, words falling from his mouth quicker than he could stop them.

“What if the sun burns our wings and we fall to the sea with nothing to catch us?” Dan retorted, as easily as breathing. “Isn’t it better to fall than to have never flown at all?”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“Terrified. All the time. But I’ll tell you a secret.” He flashed a grin, moving closer so his breath ghosted across Kyle’s ear when he spoke again. “It crushes me sometimes. I’ll be standing there in front of the mic, and it feels as though my voice gets stuck in my throat with all the darkness plaguing my mind... But when I start singing, it all melts away. It’s the only time I can shake the demons off my back. And I know it’s the same for you.” Dan pulled away, looking entirely too satisfied with himself, and Kyle quickly downed the rest of the drink, needing the distance for a moment to collect himself.

“I’m still not joining your band.” He finally said, the words failing to sound convincing even to his own ears.

Time got sort of strange after that. Kyle was vaguely aware of Dan getting up and wandering off, of a girl with pink hair pressing a new cup of punch into his hand at some point, of another girl booting him from the couch and shooing him away with another cup of the horrid stuff. As it was, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure how he ended up on the front porch of the house, and yet here he was, sitting on the cold concrete steps and drinking what could have been rat poison for all he knew.

“Out on the front door step, drinking from a paper cup…” Dan’s voice cut through the noise around them, something between singing and speaking. Or it might have just been speaking. His brain was starting to automatically assume that anytime Dan opened his mouth, it was music.

“I can’t even tell if that’s one of your songs or if I’m just really, really drunk right now.” He admitted, taking a swig from his drink as though daring Dan to counter him on it.

“You won’t remember this.” Dan simply smiled, and yes, he was definitely singing to him now. “Your hands protect the flames from the wild winds around you…”

“Ugh. Shut up and help me up.” Kyle waved his hand. Dan didn’t hesitate to take it, tugging Kyle to his feet so they were standing fairly close together.

“What were you thinking about?” Dan asked, the melodic tone of his voice suddenly gone.

“Nothing. Everything. The moon.” Kyle gestured towards the sky. “That fuckin song you wrote. About… twin… twine pokes. The show thing.”

“The night was all you had; you ran into the night from all you had. Found yourself a path upon the ground, you ran into the night, you can’t be found?”

“This is your heart, can you feel it?’ Kyle retorted, doing his best to mimic the melody he’d only heard once before. “It’s good. Really good. Shit, it all is. It’s like. Any time you open your mouth, music and poetry just. Fall out of it. And it’s good, and I can… I can hear what it could be. Could be really really fuckin good.”

“Sounds to me like you want to join my band.” Dan said in a sing song voice, causing Kyle to roll his eyes and lean forward, gripping Dan’s sweater to ground himself in the spinning world he was now living in.

“Do you ever stop singing?” He muttered before drunkenly leaning up and crashing their lips together. Dan barely had time to make a noise of surprise, his lips moving in what was almost a response before Kyle was pulling away again, swaying as he tried to remember how to breathe.

“...I really want to join your fucking band.”

* * *

The next morning found Kyle waking up in his own bed, with a weight on his chest and a horrid taste on his tongue. At first he thought he’d fallen asleep with his keyboard--he’d done stranger things while drunk in the past--but upon opening his eyes, he saw a familiar messy head of brown hair tickling his face.

“What the fuck did I do last night?” He croaked, wincing at the sound of his own voice. Sleepy eyes that always seemed torn between colors looked back up at him, narrow for a moment before widening in joy.

“You joined my band!” Dan said with a grin, his own voice somehow unaffected by whatever they’d done the night before.

“I was drunk!” Kyle protested, more out of habit than anything at this point. The twinkle in Dan’s eyes was more than enough to tell him that he couldn’t pull it off anymore.

“Still counts!”


End file.
